


(K)olorful Kings

by Bhetelgeus



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Basically there's a lot going on with everyone and y'all best just read :D, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suspense, Violence, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:46:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7681381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bhetelgeus/pseuds/Bhetelgeus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Slates were destroyed and the panicked masses returned to their normal, human selves, the Clans thought that it was all over. What the Silver King Yashiro Isana, Adolf K. Wiessman, didn't anticipate was the survival of the Kings' Sanctums. With the Clans now drawing power from the individual instead of the Dresden Slates, there's a considerable shift in power that could upset the still fragile alliance between HOMRA, Scepter 4, and HAKUMAI-TOU. Seeking to exploit this upset, enemies old and new arise... and there's one multi-color-using Blue Clansman in particular that's key to their success. Can the Kings and the Clansmen unite once again to rid Japan of its latest threat? And can Yata Misaki get through to Fushimi Saruhiko before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (K)orrupt

**Author's Note:**

> (Be prepared, this is gonna be a long one. I'm all about multiple scenes and complex storylines involving all of the characters, so if it progresses slowly, that's why. :D)

Kusanagi Izumo remembered vividly when it had happened. Outside, the season had changed to winter. They'd all been in his bar, enjoying a loud but well-deserved night in celebration of Yata's recent offer to join a skate company. It'd been the first real step towards normalcy that HOMRA had had. Yata was beside himself with embarrassment, as well as excitement... although the blush on his cheeks might've had something to do with the many beers he'd drank. Kusanagi also might've had something to say to Yata about the scuffs he and the other members of HOMRA were putting on his nice wood floors, but... it had been a time of celebration.

"You can make it all the way to an international level if you have a sponsor, right?" Akagi asked.

Yata's grin spread from ear to and his whole body shook with excitement. "You bet yer ass I will! Probably in record time, too. I mean, I'm the best of the best, after all!"

The others laughed at his boasting and Kamamoto slapped a heavy hand on his friend's small but strong shoulder. "Especially after all the stunts you pulled with HOMRA all these years!"

"Just don't forget about us little people when you're world famous," Kusanagi added.

Yata grinned devilishly at the bartender. "Aw, don't tell me you're gettin' all soft on me in your old age!" he teased.

"Don't get the wrong idea; you'll be paying for all the repairs to my bar for the damage you've caused over the years."

The horrified look on Yata's face was enough to make them all laugh. Even Kushina Anna, who had been quietly observing her once-subjects, giggled at everyone's antics. Kamamoto slid in beside his distraught friend, all too happy to poke fun at him in his slightly inebriated state. "You sure you can hack it, Yata? Without rocket-powered kick-flips or flaming ollies?"

A chorus of "oooh"s filled the room as Yata stared incredulously at Kamamoto. "Oh yeah!?" he growled, jumping over the edge of the couch to head for his skateboard. He slapped it down on the floor, eliciting a wince from Kusanagi. "My moves are so good that they'll catch on fire all by themselves!"

"Yata, wait!" the barkeep shouted, but the fiery HOMRA Clansman was already kicking up the end of his skateboard.

What they didn't expect, was for a burst of magenta flames to propel the vanguard forward, straight into the remaining members of HOMRA and, subsequently, the side of the bar. Kusanagi was too stunned to yell. Everyone else was silent as well, wondering if they were all seriously intoxicated and just imagined that Yata Misaki had just propelled himself with their long-lost fire...

Yata was the first to speak. "No way..." He slowly crawled out of the pile of HOMRA Clansmen and stared down at his skateboard, which was still emitting the slightest bit of warmth. "No way..."

"Yata, did you just..." Kamamoto began, but even he couldn't form the words.

Slowly, the vanguard stood and walked over to his skateboard, then looked back at the others. "...I didn't imagine that, right?"

The shocked expression on Kusanagi's face slowly settled into a confused scowl as everyone stared at each other in mild shock. After the Dresden Slates had been destroyed, the Kings and their Clansman had felt their auras slowly dissipate. The transition time had been brief, just long enough for them all to escape the battle with JUNGLE more or less unscathed. But, then... their powers were gone. Or so they'd thought. Suddenly realizing what this might mean, Kusanagi turned his attention to the petite girl sitting on the far side of the bar. "Anna..."

This caught everyone's attention. Temporarily distracted from Yata and his skateboard, all eyes were on Anna as she stared back, eyes wide, silent... Unlike the Clansman, Anna's initial Strain abilities were unaffected by the Slates' destruction, though her status as the Red King was presumed gone. Until now.

"Anna...?" Yata whispered, his eyes growing twice as large. The rest of HOMRA stared with similar expressions as Anna, their once Red King, was slowly shrouded in an aura of red. She turned towards the others, awestruck...

Gasps of surprise erupted from HOMRA as that unmistakable red enveloped them one by one. After the initial moment of shock, Bandou walked forward and lifted his hand. Everyone held their breaths, until... In a flourish of heat, red flames curled around his fingers. Exclamations of shock and surprise followed, along with a blaze of fires. At this, Kusanagi finally snapped out of his shock to come to the rescue of his bar. "Hold on! Stop! You idiots are gonna burn the place down!" But his concerns were drowned out by flames and excited laughter.

Suddenly, Anna bolted from her stool and ran through the HOMRA Clansman and out the front door. "Anna!" Yata called, rushing out after her. Everyone else followed. They found her out in the middle of the street, staring up at the sky as snow fell down softly around them... She lifted her tiny arms upwards... and smiled. "Mikoto," she whispered. "I can see it... I can finally see it again..."

Everyone waited.

Without another word, the girl called upon her Sanctum and the sky erupted with a burst of red power. Forming just as it once did for all the Kings before and as it once had for Kushina Anna... was the Red Sword of Damocles.

-o-o-o-

"All I'm saying is that we've earned a break, don't you think?"

Once more, Domyouji Andy's words fell on deaf ears. It wasn't that anyone disagreed with him, it was just that they all knew how unlikely a well-earned vacation was going to happen. They'd expended so much energy on helping the Prime Minister rebuild their tattered society after the Slates Incident that it'd caused all of their other job duties to be neglected. Now that things were somewhat stabilized, they'd been forced to play catch-up.

"How about you just do your work instead of complaining about it and then we might actually get caught up," Fuse Daiki replied with a sigh. He ignored Domyouji's downtrodden expression, which prompted the exhausted young man to retort. However, Scepter 4's Sanctum Alert cut him off.

The alarm rang. And rang. At first, no one moved. Fushimi Saruhiko was the first to react. "Someone get the Captain."

Akiyama Himori gave a curt nod before rushing off to Munakata Reisi's office. Only a split second after he departed, Awashima Seri came bursting into the bullpen. "What's going on!? Fushimi...!?"

The third in command was typing furiously on his computer as a variety of screens came to life and displayed a collection of data that Scepter 4 never thought they'd lay eyes on again. "Something tripped the Sactum Alert," he said calmly. Around him, a storm of blue uniforms and confused voices raged as everyone rushed to their stations to analyze the data.

"Fushimi," came the Captain's voice. The rushing Blue Clansmen came to a halt as their captain entered the room. His expression was unreadable.

"Ah?" Fushimi replied, only half paying attention as his eyes flitted expertly over the incoming information.

"Is there any way for the Sanctum Alert System to be activated without the presence of a Sword of Damocles?" the Captain asked.

"No."

A sly smirk appeared on Munakata's face. "Then I suppose it's safe to assume that it wasn't just 'something' that tripped the alarm."

At this, everyone froze. Awashima stepped towards her superior with a bewildered expression. "Sir... Are you saying..."

The Captain glanced up at the screens for a moment. "Fushimi... Is it a Sanctum we recognize?"

Everyone waited in complete silence for the young man's response. A few clicks later, he turned towards the Captain with his usual grim expression and replied, "it's... the Red King's."

There was another eruption of shouts as the rest of Scepter 4 made a mad dash for the outside. No doubt, the front staff were having a heart attack as everyone barreled out into the open with wild expressions on their faces, screaming about swords and Sanctums... Fushimi sighed and leaned back in his chair. Munakata walked up beside him and asked, "There's no mistake?"

"My program doesn't make mistakes," came Fushimi's reply. The Captain smirked.

"Then I best join the others... Miss Awashima!"

"Yes, sir!"

Munakata began walking towards the front of the building. "I don't suppose you're still in touch with our Red friends on the other side of the city?"

"Sir?"

Munakata pushed his glasses up his nose and looked away. "I'd like to know their side of the story, if you'd be so kind..."

Awashima's eyes lit up in understanding. "Yes, sir. I'll let you know what I find out immediately." Without waiting a moment longer, she pulled out her PDA and dialed a familiar number. Fushimi watched her for a moment before turning back to the Captain.

"I guess that means I'm staying right here?" he asked in a single exhale. The Captain nodded.

"I'll call you if we're successful."

Fushimi nodded. Munakata didn't need to explain, not with the next course of action being so obvious. If the Red King's Sword of Damocles truly had returned, then Munakata, the Blue King, needed to see if his own had remained intact. And, if so, what kind of shape it was in. Undoubtedly, everyone was outside, staring up at the skies, trying to find that familiar sword in the sky... If Fushimi remembered anything about HOMRA, then all they needed to do was look in a certain direction...

"Thank you, Izumo... I'll be in touch."

Awashima ended her call and quickly dialed the Captain. Fushimi listened intently as he stared at the data, waiting for the telltale shift to indicate that the Blue King was active as well...

"Captain," she began, "I spoke with HOMRA... Turns out this... is all some sort of 'happy accident'. One moment, they were as normal as be, and the next, they were all producing auras and wielding their red flames. Kushina Anna immediately went outside to call upon her Sanctum and try to form her Sword of Damocles, of which she was successful... Yes, sir..." She paused a moment and looked over at Fushimi. "He's on standby... Right. You have the all-clear, sir..." She listened a moment longer, then hung up. "He's... going to try it..." Awashima said to Fushimi.

The pale man clicked his tongue. "You don't sound so sure about it," he observed. Awashima wrapped her arms around herself.

"His sword was so close to falling," she replied. Fushimi turned away. It was a legitimate concern, but with the suddenness of the situation and the importance of knowing whether or not the Blue King was still, indeed, a King at all... Especially with HOMRA potentially back in action... They needed to know their limits and potential and they needed to know fast.

"I have the data right in front of me, Miss Awashima," Fushimi said with a sigh. "If his Sword of Damocles looks like it's going to fall, I'll know immediately... and we'll be able to react before it's even fully formed. That gives us approximately 30 seconds to respond." He sighed again. "That's more than enough time."

Though his back was turned, Awashima couldn't help herself from smiling at her Clansman. "...thank you, Fushimi."

He only shrugged, but quickly became alert when the screens indicated another Sanctum activating. "Here we go," he murmured. Both he and Awashima watched the screens impatiently...

Without warning, Awashima was engulfed in a cool, blue aura. It startled her at first, but she immediately felt the familiarity of it, the connection with her Captain and her King... And nothing about the monitor's data suggested that Munakata's Sword of Damocles was ready to crash to the earth. She stared at her hands, at the beautiful blue that caressed her delicate fingers, and smiled. They were back... The Blue Clan and their King were back. "Captain," she whispered in relief. "Fushimi, we need to... Fushimi?!"

At some point during their waiting, Fushimi had stood, but his entire demeanor brought Awashima to instant alarm, though not for their King... Fushimi, the normally calm and collected young third in command of Scepter 4... had a look of absolute agony etched on his face. His eyes were wide with it and his body trembled. Awashima called out to him repeatedly, but he didn't respond. His gaze was somewhere faraway as the blue aura that Awashima had just been relishing in slowly worked its way up the left side of his body. Then, after a few more flickers of blue light... came the red. Awashima stared in amazement as HOMRA's signature magenta curled around the right side of his body. Again, she called out to him, but there was no response. That's when the crackle of green electricity came.

When the third color made itself known, Fushimi collapsed to his hands and knees and violently coughed out a splatter of blood. Awashima could only watch in horror as the three colors, red, green, and blue, warred over Fushimi's body. She yelled his name repeatedly... but there was no intelligent response. The third in command could only let out a horrible, anguished cry of pain. "Fushimi!" Again, no response... Just a look of crippling agony as his breath came in short gasps and blood dripped from his lips.

"Miss Awashima! Fushimi!"

From nowhere, the Captain came into view. There was a moment of hesitation, an exchange of glances between Munakata and Fushimi... Another twirling of red, blue, and green... one more anguished cry and spitting of blood... "Cuh... Captain..." Fushimi forced out.

In a flash, Munakata pulled his sword, sheath and all, from his side and struck Fushimi. Almost immediately, the sparking and swirling around the younger man ceased. Silence followed. Fushimi lay unconscious on the floor.

"Captain," Awashima whispered.

"Get him to the infirmary immediately," Munakata ordered. As soon as the order was given, the other members of Scepter 4 began filing into the room. At first, they were still jovial over receiving their powers once more. But, one look at an unconscious Fushimi and the serious expressions on the Captain's and Awashima's faces, and they knew that something dire had transpired. Awashima nodded and pulled out her PDA to call in for medical care. As the other members of the Blue Clan stepped forward, their King moved between them and their unconscious Clansman.

"What's going on?" Akiyama asked. "What happened!?"

Munakata glanced back at Fushimi before answering. "There's... been a complication..." He looked back to his Clansmen. "I need you all to get back to your stations. The time for celebration will have to wait. Right now, I need you to monitor the Wiessman levels of all of Tokyo. All of Japan, if possible... as far as our system can reach. I need to know right away if any other Sanctums are activated in our area. Fuse! Kamo!" The two Clansmen stood at attention. "Put together a search team to be on standby should anything unusual occur while I'm gone."

"Sir!" Fuse said, stepping forward. "Where are you going?"

The Blue King looked down at Fushimi, to whom Awashima was currently attending. His second in command looked up at him and shook her head: Fushimi was still unconscious. Munakata nodded and turned back to his men. "I will explain everything as soon as I can. Please, prepare the team."

"Yes, sir!"

At this point, the doors burst open and an infirmary team appeared. Munakata directed them to Fushimi, who they strapped to a gurney and hauled out in record time. Munakata ordered Awashima to leave with them, to report back on Fushimi's condition the second anything changed.

How had any of this come to pass? The more the Blue King thought about it, the less sense it made. The Slates had been destroyed. Their powers should've dissipated with them... So why were they manifesting now? And why did Fushimi display all three? No, not display... the poor boy had been overwhelmed... None of it made sense.

However, there was one person he could call that might know the answer.

After he was certain that every member of Scepter 4 was working diligently, the Captain stepped out of the bullpen and opened his PDA. After a bit of scrolling, he found the contact group he was looking for... HAKUMAI-TOU. The name 'A. K. W.' donned the top of the list. There was no hesitation as Munakata dialed the Silver King.

"Adolf K. Wiessman... Something's happened…"


	2. Re(K)indled

"Neko, wait!" You need to blow on it first, or-"

"Nyaaoooww!"

Hot cocoa almost went flying everywhere, but the cup was deftly caught by Isana Yashiro - no, he was Adolf K. Wiessman again. Or, was he...? He still felt the pull of his recent adventures on his sense of self. He was still Shiro, too... In any case, none of that was going to help cure Neko's burnt mouth or wipe the annoyed expression off of Yatogami Kuroh's face. "I _told_ you it was still hot when I gave it to you!"

"But, I wanted to drink cocoa with Shiro! And his mug is almost empty!" the girl complained.

"I would have waited for yours to cool, Neko," Shiro replied with a gentle smile. He brought the mug to his lips and gently blew the steam away. "I think it's cool enough for you to drink now... Here." Shiro passed the mug to his Silver Clansman and waited. Neko took a cautious sip.

"...uwaa! It's so tasty! Thank you, Shiro!"

"Don't thank me, thank Kuroh, he's the one that made it."

Neko begrudgingly turned to the brooding man and was about to offer her thanks... but his expression wasn't a brooding one at all. Instead, he was staring out the glass doors of their dorm room, out into the skies, stunned. "Kuroh...?" Neko asked as she curiously followed his gaze. Her reaction immediately mimicked his. "Nya-!" she exclaimed in surprise.

"What is it?" Shiro asked in concern. The two Clansmen just continued staring outside, so Shiro stood and joined them. He, too, was stunned into silence.

"Shiro," came Kuroh's calm voice, though the slight tremor in it betrayed his shock. "Are those..."

"Swords of Damocles," Shiro replied. "The Red King's... and the Blue King's... They're both... but..."

"I thought that the Slates were destroyed," the swordsman said quietly.

"Shiro! Does this mean you have one, too!? Are we HAKUMAI-TOU again!? With special powers!? Nyan!?"

"I... I don't know. This shouldn't even be possible..."

"But, Shiro," Kuroh interjected seriously. "Your Sword was..."

Realization dawned on Shiro's face, followed by a sad smile. "That's right... My Sword fell... Regardless of what's going on out there, I wouldn't be able to test the theory as I am no longer the Silver King."

"Shiro is the Silver King!" Neko protested. "Shiro will always be my King and I will always be Shiro's cat!"

The pale man smiled and patted Neko's head. "Thank you, Neko."

"Shiro!"

Kuroh's concerned voice cut sharply through their touching moment and all eyes were on the sky once more. To their surprise, a curiously familiar bolt of green flickered up from the ground and around the blade of the Blue King's Sword. And just as suddenly as it came on, it was gone. Shiro stared out in total bewilderment. Just what exactly was going on!? However, the ring of his PDA snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked down at the device. It came as no surprise when Munakata Reisi's name and face scrolled across the screen. Shiro grabbed the device and returned his gaze to the Swords. "Munakata," he answered quietly.

 _"Adolf K. Wiessman... Something's happened_ _..."_

"You wouldn't be referring to a couple of giant Swords floating in the sky, now would you?"

_"So, you've noticed them already."_

"Hard not to," Shiro replied, "especially since yours looks pretty much intact..." He paused for a moment. "It _is_ yours, I hope?"

 _"Yes,"_ the once-again Blue King replied, _"just as the red one is Kushina Anna's."_ Shiro breathed a sigh of relief. The return of the Swords not withstanding, having to track down a bunch of inexperienced, fledgling Kings would have thoroughly complicated the situation. _"And yours?"_ the Blue King finally asked. Shiro laughed nervously.

"To be honest, I haven't tried yet... though I still feel the same as I always have since the Slates were destroyed."

 _"Your Sword had crashed into the Slates,"_ Munakata mumbled, as if he was trying to recall something that had happened ages ago. In a way, it had. _"Shiro... you have to try."_

"I can if you want me to," the former Silver King answered, "but I'm not sure how helpful _another_ Sword of Damocles is going to be. We shouldn't even _have_ the powers and Kingships and colors anymore, let alone-"

 _"Adolf K. Wiessman."_ Shiro abruptly silenced at Munakata's interruption. _"I apologize, Shiro, but I need you to tell me if you're still the Silver King... and if you are, whether or not you can still manipulate a Wiessman level. Or, more specifically... suppress it."_

Shiro's brows furrowed with concern. "Captain," he began, "the one with the power to contain and suppress was Kokujouji Daikaku, the Gold King, not myself... What's happened?"

"Shiro..." Neko whined quietly, hating the look on her King's face. Kuroh put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but his expression was just as worried.

 _"I'm not asking for you to suppress any Slates, if there are any,"_ Munakata explained. _"What I need suppressed... is a Clansman. And I'm not sure how to do it."_

"A... Clansman?" Shiro asked in surprise.

_"I know you can manipulate your own power's intensity... But, I'm afraid that Fushimi Saruhiko does not possess that ability. Neither do I... And if we don't act quickly, then I don't know if we'll be able to help him. He's my Clansman, Shiro. I'm responsible for him. So, if there's anything that you can do, we need to make use of it immediately."_

Shiro carefully considered the Captain's words, trying to make sense of what on earth could be happening to the younger Clansman... "Shiro?" Kuroh asked. "What's going on?"

"He... says he needs my abilities, if I have any still... to suppress Fushimi Saruhiko's abilities," he replied quietly. "The Blue King's third in command..."

"Ohhh, the scary glasses guy!" Neko exclaimed. "The guy with all the colors! The blue, the red, the green...!"

Suddenly, it all clicked in Shiro's head. He returned to the PDA call. "I'll try it immediately, Captain... Is he stabilized?"

_"For the moment."_

"Keep him that way. If this goes successfully, then I'll be at Scepter 4's headquarters in no time."

 _"Thank you, Shiro."_ The Blue King ended their call. Shiro walked directly up to the large window and stared at the sky above them. Both Kuroh and Neko stared at him with puzzled expressions, but remained silent as their King attempted to call upon his Sanctum... something he never thought he'd do again.

"Here goes," he said with a small, uneasy smile. He closed his eyes...

-o-o-o-

"Captain!"

Munakata looked away from the readouts on his computer screen to the door of his office swinging inward. Awashima stood there with a shocked, but determined expression on her face. "It's the Silver King's Sword! It... it survived!"

"Excellent," the Blue King replied. He closed out his readings and stood. "Shiro should be on his way here already. Once he arrives, take him directly to Fushimi. I'll be waiting for you." At this, he moved past his lieutenant and out into the halls of Scepter 4. The infirmary wasn't too far away... and he'd requested that Akiyama stay with the still-unconscious Fushimi until he arrived to relieve him. With Shiro's Sword of Damocles still active, he couldn't help but walk quickly, with the smallest sense of hope. If they hadn't been able to help Fushimi... Of course, they weren't out of the woods yet, but there was still a chance that the third in command could be saved from a fate he didn't ask for. After all, if his powers consumed him and he died as a result of that, then the blame would rest on Munakata alone.

"Sir," the Blue Clansman said, coming to attention as his Captain neared.

"Thank you for keeping an eye on him, Akiyama," the Blue King replied. He looked in through the large observation window; Fushimi had been stripped of his jacket and vest, nothing but his thin, white, sweat-soaked and blood-stained shirt separating him from the cold air of the infirmary. He looked so thin in such a state. His breathing was labored and Munakata could still see the faintest smudges of blood on his pale lips... It was a terrible, terrible sight, but he maintained his composure. At least, for now. "How is he?" he finally asked softly.

Akiyama took a moment to respond as he peered in at Fushimi as well. "He's still stable, though the bouts of pain come and go... Anytime his heart rate and blood pressure get too high, the machine doses him with that," he replied, pointing to a bag filled with some clear liquid that was attached to the top of Fushimi's slender hand via a small tube. "Some sort of mix of something to put him under again... Though it's effectiveness is getting weaker and weaker."

"Help is on the way," Munakata replied. He glanced down at his Clansman. "Awashima is meeting the Silver King at the main desk. I'd like you to head back to our office and monitor the Wiessman levels of the Swords and anything else you might find. If something noteworthy happens, come find me immediately. I'll be here."

"Yes, sir," Akiyama replied. He stepped away, but paused a moment to look back at his King. "...he'll make it, sir," he couldn't help but say. "Fushimi Saruhiko is strong... Stronger than he looks."

The Blue King smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. Was this his subordinate's way of trying to console him? Did Akiyama realize that this was Munakata's fault as well? However, he kept his thoughts to himself and the Blue Clansman left to do as instructed. Munakata simply stared at his third in command through the glass. "He's right, you know," the Blue King said aloud. "You're stronger than you look... but we _both_ might have overestimated just how much you can take..."

"This way," Awashima's voice drifted down the halls. Within seconds, she came into view, the Silver King close behind her. "Captain," she said in a sort of introduction. "The other Silver Clansman are upstairs..."

"I hope you don't mind them tagging along," Shiro said with a guilty expression. "Considering everything that's happened in such a short time, they weren't too keen on letting me wander around another King's territory without their protection."

Munakata nodded. "That's quite alright. My Clansman are too busy analyzing this new data to care much for cat's or the Black Dog's presence here. Or yours, for that matter, so I apologize for the informality and lack of reception."

"There's no need, really," Shiro replied with a smile. It quickly faded into a more serious expression and he turned to the observation window. "Besides... we have something more important to worry about."

Munakata chose his next words carefully, preparing himself for whatever answer - good or bad - that the Silver King might give him. After all, he knew this was a long shot. "...can you help him?"

Shiro didn't answer right away. Instead, he carefully observed the third in command, his eyes calculating something unseen. Suddenly, Fushimi's body twitched and jerked and he let out a cry of pain, his eyes flying open yet unseeing, his breath caught in his throat... until the drugs kicked in and he was more or less still again. The Silver King watched the entire spectacle in shock. "How are you keeping him stabilized?" he asked.

"A cocktail of tranquilizers, muscle relaxers, and painkillers," Munakata replied. "It's not exactly the safest, most ethical method, but... it's effective. An idea I stole from a subordinate, and a good one." He glanced at Awashima, who almost blushed at the reference to a time that seemed so long ago... "Without it, there's no telling what shape he'd be in."

"Then, in that case... I have an idea," Shiro replied. Munakata contained his relief, though Awashima wore it all over her face.

"You can help him?" she asked hopefully. Munakata briefly wondered when his second in command had developed such a motherly soft spot for the dreary boy.

"I think so," Shiro answered. "But... I doubt you'll like my idea."

Awashima's hopeful face fell. Munakata narrowed his eyes and asked, "just what do you plan to do?"

"Pass my aura onto him."

He was right; _neither_ Scepter 4 officer liked the idea. "You want to give him _more_ power!?" Awashima asked in disbelief. "Won't that just make this worse!?"

"I know it doesn't sound appealing," Shiro explained, "but if I pass my aura onto him, then, theoretically... he should be able to suppress his excess power on his own. The other auras - red, green, blue... They're all offensive-type abilities. Mine is defensive. If I pass it on to him, it will automatically try to protect him, even if he's not fully conscious."

"It... sounds so dangerous, though..." the lieutenant whispered. "What if it does the opposite? And overwhelms him?"

"That's why I'd like to reduce the dosage of whatever it is keeping him stabilized," Shiro replied. "At least, enough so that he's conscious when I pass it on. That way, he'll know what he has to do... My aura can only do so much. A large part of this is going to rely on Fushimi's own strength."

There were so many unanswered questions: why was this happening to Fushimi? Why did they all suddenly regain their powers? Why had the third in command retained all three? Why were Munakata's and Shiro's Swords of Damocles reborn and in perfect shape? But, Munakata knew that these mysteries and more would have to wait... Fushimi's survival came first. Once the Silver King had saved his Clansman, _then_ he would be subjected to the Captain's questioning. And he _would answer._

"...very well," Munakata finally answered. Awashima gasped and gawked at her King, but didn't question his decision. Munakata knew that she wanted to do whatever it took to save Fushimi as well. Just as the other members of Scepter 4 wanted... And this was the only option they had. If only they had more time... but Fushimi's condition meant it was now or never. So, the Captain opened the door to Fushimi's room and stepped in with Shiro. He didn't even hesitate to slowly close the valve to the liquid mixture being pumped through Fushimi's veins. It didn't take long for him to react.

"Cuh... Cap... tain..." he whispered, followed by a tremor of pain through his body. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, riding out the pain. A ripple of green electricity ran up his body. "Captain... I... I can't..."

"Don't talk, Fushimi," the Blue King ordered. Fushimi couldn't respond, anyway. It looked like it was taking every ounce of his willpower and strength to keep his unruly abilities at bay, another cry of pain waiting on his lips... Suddenly, the third in command turned to the side and violently coughed up more blood. Munakata turned to the Silver King. "Shiro!"

"Right," the smaller man replied. He walked over to Fushimi's side and gently held the boy's face in his hands. "Fushimi Saruhiko," he said kindly, a smile on his face. "I want to help you... but I need your permission first, alright?" He waited patiently for the third in command to nod. "Good... because what I'm going to do is dangerous... It'll either save you... or kill you. Do you accept?"

For a moment, only the sound of Fushimi's labored breathing filled the room. He looked between the Silver and Blue Kings, searching them for something... though he wasn't sure what. Shiro's eyes were filled with pity, which only made Fushimi feel worse. However, his Captain's were stern, determined... as if he already knew that Fushimi would do this and survive, beyond a shadow of a doubt... Well, who was he to disappoint his King? A bitter smile appeared on his bloody lips. "Well... Get on... with it... then..."

Shiro nodded. "This... might be uncomfortable," the Silver King said needlessly. But, before Fushimi could mumble a sarcastic reply, a silvery-white aura flooded into his body from Shiro's hands.

At first, it was overwhelming... A heat completely different from HOMRA, warmer than the cool flames of Scepter 4, and more controlled than the erratic electricity of JUNGLE... His entire body clenched from the feeling of it all, the whiteness obliterating his senses in every way, cutting him off from the outside world... Until, softly, Shiro's voice came floating into him from the void... telling him to latch onto the silver, to find his control, to subdue the volatile auras battling for control within him... And, slowly... it began to work.

He wasn't sure how long he lay writhing on the infirmary bed, but he felt utterly exhausted by the time he completely came to. Both Munakata and Shiro were watching him carefully, listening to him pant and waiting to see if their gamble had proved successful... Their expressions were so eager that Fushimi wanted to smack them off both of their faces. "Staring at me isn't going to make it work any better," he finally replied.

Both Kings let out sighs of relief. "It worked," Munakata commented quietly. He turned back and glanced at Awashima through the glass, nodding to her. The look of relief on her face was twice that of the Blue King's and she rushed off to tell the other of their success. Munakata turned back to his Clansman. "Fushimi... are you alright? Are you still in any pain?"

Fushimi clicked his tongue and looked away in mild irritation. "I'm perfectly fine," he answered, "just tired of being a spectacle."

"Captain Munakata," Shiro suddenly interjected. Both Blue Clansmen looked at him. "I know this is probably the last thing you want, but... may I have a moment with my psuedo-Clansman?"

The Blue King and Fushimi exchanged glances, but the Captain sighed and smiled in defeat. "Of course, Shiro... Just don't keep him too long. He has a lot of concerned people to tolerate before he's off the hook for today."

"You got it!" the Silver King replied with a smile. Munakata gave Fushimi one more once over and, once he determined that the young man really was alright, left him in the care of the Silver King.

Fushimi just clicked his tongue again and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm not your Clans-"

"Do you lie often, Fushimi?"

Shiro's question caught the third in command completely off guard. "...I don't get it."

"You told your King that you were completely fine, but that's not true," Shiro elaborated. Fushimi's expression grew dark and he kept silent, so Shiro continued. "I know I'm not your King, Fushimi Saruhiko, but you and I are connected, now... And as long as you draw power from my aura, I'll know what you're feeling... how much pain you're in... Like right now." Fushimi's eyes narrowed. "I know you're still in pain..."

"Disappointed that your trick wasn't successful?" the Blue Clansman asked. Shiro smiled brightly.

"You're alive, aren't you? I'd call that a success in my book!" was the Silver King's reply. Fushimi rolled his eyes. Shiro's face became serious once more. "What I'm saying, Fushimi, is that you need to be honest with me... This isn't a permanent fix... I'm sure you know that. And when it starts to get difficult... When you feel your control slipping, I need you to tell me right away, okay?" He smiled apologetically at the younger man. "Save face with your Blue Clansman if you need to, but when it comes to me-"

"I understand," Fushimi replied, hoping to end the subject before anyone else came back.

"We'll find a way to help you," Shiro said, setting his fist in his hand. "I promise... We'll find out what's going on with our powers, the Slates... everything."

"...as you say," Fushimi answered.

The Silver King nodded. "Right... well, I best go pick up my own Clansmen before they do something irreversible to Scepter 4's architecture... Remember, Fushimi. If anything changes..." Fushimi nodded curtly. "Right, then... I'll check in soon." And with that, the Silver King disappeared down the halls.

Fushimi took the moment alone to stare down at his still-trembling hands. Everything felt so... distant and groggy, yet sharp and hyper-focused... Like he'd just been awoken from a deep sleep and thrown into some adrenaline-soaked reality. The pain, though present as Shiro had pointed out, was much more manageable. The only issue was that it did nothing to help him solve his riddle: how the hell did he retain all of these auras? These ablities? And if he was able to juggle the three of them before, why couldn't he now? Why? What the hell was going on? None of it made sense...

Realizing that no one else would have reached a conclusion without him, he sighed, stood, and forced himself to head back towards his Clansman.

-o-o-o-

"Did it work? Was our mission successful?"

The two figures perched atop a tower nearby Scepter 4's headquarters stared down at the facility as the cold winter wind blew around them. Snow flurried every which way, but they didn't seem bothered by it.

"I'll say," the other figure replied. He pulled out a cell phone and called out. "Hello, hello~! Yup! Mission accomplished... The Silver King walked right in there and gave him his aura, just like we expected... Right, I'll tell him. Bye bye~!"

"What'd he say?"

"That we wait..."

"But-!"

"Always so impatient, hmm?" The figure sighed. "We can't do anything yet... We have to wait until he's ready to come to us... And he will be. When the time is right and he give him an offer he can't refuse... Fushimi Saruhiko will be ours."


	3. (K)ontrol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies on the slow start to this story. I tend to get a bit wordy when setting the scenes... After this chapter, things will pick up! I promise!

Fushimi plashed some water on his face and looked back up at himself in the mirror. Haggard. Sickly. On the verge of death. That and more was written across his worn face as he scowled at his image. He didn’t like his weaknesses broadcast to the world, not like this. Of course, there was no hiding his ailment, not after the show he put on in the main office. He sighed and walked back to the main space of his dorm room.

He’d been allowed to return to his room to change and gather himself. It was difficult to avoid the looks of concern and despair that the other members of Scepter 4 gave him as he walked into the office – it probably didn’t help that his shirt was still stained with blood and a fine layer of sweat still clung to his clammy skin. But he simply rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue at their expressions and calmly asked the Captain if he could go change into something less garish. Munakata had agreed, so long as Awashima went with him. _“Just a precaution. We’re not out of the woods yet,”_ he’d said with his trademark smirk. Fushimi scowled, but was in no position to argue.

Then again, walking out in casual clothes to his lieutenant sitting nervously on his couch was something he’d never get used to. The two Clansmen avoided eye contact awkwardly. “I don’t have any clean uniforms,” Fushimi mumbled.

“That’s alright, Fushimi. I’m sure the Captain would prefer you dressed an comfortably as possible, considering the situation,” Awashima replied. She stood and gestured towards the door. “Would you like to return? Or do you need to stay here and rest? I’m sure the Captain… would…”

Her words trailed off and a strange expression appeared on her face. Fushimi scowled. “What?” he asked irritably. Did he look like he was about to die already? He was focusing so hard on the silver aura that Shiro had gifted him… He _felt_ in control…

“Um, your…” Awashima said nervously, her eyes flicking down to Fushimi’s arms, but she quickly regained her composure. “Your… your PDA!” she reached over and grabbed the device off the coffee table and offered it to her Clansman. “It’s been ringing nonstop. I glanced at it once and I think it’s your friend from HOMRA. The vanguard.”

Fushimi sighed, though he couldn’t say he was surprised. He reached for the device.

_Oh._

Awashima’s earlier stuttering made sense as he reached out and realized that he’d forgotten to roll back down his long sleeves. Without the cover of his shirt or his usual armbands, the long, heavy scars of a time long since passed were clearly visible. He tsk’ed and snatched the PDA from the lieutenant. “Thank you, Ms. Awashima. I think I’ll head back now.” He pushed both of his sleeves back down and proceeded to check his messages. The second-in-command was right; they were all from Yata. Fushimi turned his back to the woman. “I’ll return on my own, thank you.”

“But…” Awashima began, but Fushimi had already tuned her out. She sighed. “Captain’s orders, I can’t leave you just yet, Fushimi. But I’ll wait outside until your ready.” With that, she turned and left before he could argue further. He gave another annoyed click of his tongue and went back to listening to his old friend’s messages.

_“Saruhiko!! We’ve got our powers back!! Tell me you have yours, too! Call me!”_

_“Oooooiii! Saruhiko!! Saw your King’s sword in the sky! That’s great news!! Call me when you can, I’m sure you're busy… talk to you soon, Saru!”_

_“Don’t tell me you’re too busy working to send a TEXT or something. This is HUGE! Yatagarasu is BACK!! Hurry up and call me!!”_

_“If you don’t call me back, I’m going to bust into Septer 4 and land my skateboard on your face! Just because we have our powers back doesn’t mean we’re enemies again, SARU!”_

Fushimi sighed. Leave it to Yata to get all worked up about something that was the norm for them for so many years. Of course, he was probably just excited to have a connection to his King again, living to serve and whatnot… The Reds were fortunate; they couldn’t have obtained a better, more loyal vanguard.

Not bothering with a call, Fushimi typed out a quick message to his friend. _‘I’m working, Misaki, go bother your own Clansmen.’_ He pressed send. After a moment of thinking, he figured he better expand upon that message, or risk Yata blowing up at him for not explaining things properly again. So, he sent a second message. _‘We met with the Silver Clan, so things are busy here. I’ll talk when I can.’_

“There, if he doesn’t like that,” Fushimi grumbled. He shoved the PDA in his pocket and gave himself one last look-over in the full-length mirror on the back of his door. At least now, without the bloodstained clothes, he looked a little less terrible. He glanced down at his arms. ‘Awashima saw… but I’m certain she already knew’, he thought to himself. The Captain made it pretty clear that he and his lieutenant knew all there was to know about Fushimi and his past when they recruited him into Scepter 4. That being said, it was just another sign of weakness that he preferred not to broadcast. Even if it was years and years ago…

A vibration in his pocket pulled him from his dark thoughts and he pulled it out. A message from Yata flashed across the screen. _‘About damn time, Saruhiko! I can’t wait to hear what the Silvers have to say about all this… Hit me up asap! ;)’_ And that was all. A smirk appeared on Fushimi’s face at how easy it was to placate his old friend. He made a mental note to indeed contact him later… Once he’d figured out how much to actually tell him about what transpired. His smirk vanished and it was all back to business. He pushed open the front door and found Awashima waiting for him. He clicked his tongue and followed her back to the main office.

-o-o-o-o-

Shiro looked at the scrolling wave patterns as they flashed across the screen of Munakata’s desk. “I see it,” he murmured, pointing to a particular section, “this one, yes?”

“Correct,” the Blue King replied. “The program we used to monitor the Wiessman levels of our Kings was designed to run in the background, constantly monitoring activity. Of course, after the Slates were destroyed, no one ever thought to check. After all, our auras had vanished and with them our abilities.”

“Only, it was temporary,” Shiro provided. “But… how is that possible… When my Sword crashed into the Slates, they should’ve been vaporized. There _were_ vaporized!”

“Take a look at this,” Munakata directed. Shiro watched as a new set of data flashed across the screen. “This is the Wiessman activity on the day we attacked JUNGLE’s headquarters.” He pointed at the screen just as one set of waves began fluctuating erratically. “This is my Wiessman level after I called upon my Sanctum. As you can see, I was unable to undo it due to its volatile nature. It took all of my effort just to contain it as it was.”

“That’s pretty impressive, Captain,” Shiro said in admiration and surprise. “… you obviously care very deeply for the people around you…”

“As do you, Adolf K. Wiessman,” Munakata replied. He gestured to the screen. “As you can see here, you are sacrificing your own Sword of Damocles and, subsequently, your life in an attempt to neutralize the Slates. Watch closely.”

Shiro did as instructed. Suddenly, the wavelength that represented his Wiessman level grew more and more erratic. Until… a final burst of energy and all the data began to slowly fade away… and then everything was still. A flat-line. Gone.

“So strange to see it again,” Shiro said quietly.

“That’s not the strangest part,” the Blue King replied. “After some time, your soul located your original body, still perfectly preserved as an after-effect of hosting the Silver King for seventy years, correct?” Shiro nodded. “And as far as you can tell, you’ve been aging normally, with no more immortality?’

Shiro lifted his hands and smiled apologetically. “Well, it’s only been a year or so, right? So I can’t say for sure if I’m aging properly or not… But I _did_ get a paper cut the other day…” He extended his hand towards Munakata to show the still-red little slice in his skin.

“So your healing abilities were also normalized,” the Blue King commented.

“I’m not sure to what extent, but yes,” Shiro replied. “I think there was just enough power for my soul to rebound before it dissipated completely.”

“That’s just it, Shiro,” the Captain said seriously. “It _didn’t_ dissipate.” Shiro gave him a confused look, so he elaborated. “Look at this…” He activated a timeline on his screen. “This is a sped-up relay of that background program. If you look closely…” He pointed to a series of waves that were steadily getting stronger and stronger. “…this little hum on the Slates’ wavelength appears to be multiplying. Almost like-“

“The Slates,” Shiro said in disbelief.” The Slates are rebuilding themselves.”

“It would seem that way.”

“But… it’s not possible! To reconstruct something from nothing…”

“Would take considerable power, yes? Perhaps a powerful strain? Or a King? Both, maybe?”

Shiro, who had stood from the realization, fell back into his chair. “So… we’re still bound to the Slates after all…”

“I’m not so sure,” the Blue King replied. “The data suggests that the Slates are reforming, yes, but… Well, look at this.” Once more, he played a relay clip, only this one was time stamped from a few hours ago. A series of fluctuations danced across the screen. “If you watch closely, you an see our Wiessman levels getting stronger and weaker, but this hum… the one we think might be the Slates… it remains completely unaffected.”

The Silver King scowled. “So… for some reason, we aren’t under the Slates’ influence…?” An characteristic scowl appeared on Shiro’s face as he whispered to himself, “is that even possible…”

“Is it?” the Blue King asked. “To have our aura’s without the Slates?”

A nervous smile appeared on Shiro’s face. “Well, it certainly seems that way…”

“But, how…”

“I have to look into it… but the reappearance of the Slates are definitely connected somehow. And if they no longer offer some source of protection or control, then that would explain Fushimi’s condition.” It was the Captain’s turn to stare at Shiro curiously, so he continued. “He was able to hold on to and control three colors because of his own willpower and strength, yes… But through the Slates, your Kingship and the protection of your aura acted as a sort of cap. A safety net… Without it, those abilities were able to easily overwhelm him. He’s not strong enough on his own to contain them.”

“You mean, _I’m_ not strong enough?” Munakata asked. Shiro brought his hand to his chin in thought.

“No… somehow, even with your aura, your Clansmen have to draw upon their own strength now, just as your Sword came from yourself, not the Slates… With our auras, we’re connected to our Clansmen, but it looks like we no longer supply their strength. And even with Fushimi’s own impressive strength, he can’t subdue so many auras all on his own. Not for long.”

This put the Blue King in deep thought as well. “…is anyone else in danger?”

“It’s… hard to say,” Shiro admitted, “without knowing more… But!!” He smiled reassuringly at the Captain. “I’m sure you didn’t employ a bunch of weak-willed officers in Scepter 4, yes? If no one else has had an problems, then I’d say you’re in the clear. For now, in any case.”

“I see,” the Captain replied.

“Munakata,” Shiro began, “I’d like to go investigate the crater… the old JUNGLE headquarters.”

The Blue King stood. “Very well… I’ll meet with the Red Clan, since they first discovered this anomaly, and see if they’ve had any… similar complications. As well as inform them of what we know.”

“Right.” Shiro stood as well. “I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting.”

“Thank you, Shiro… For everything.”

The Silver King paused as he read the concern written all over Munakata’s face. A kind smile appeared on his face and he said, “don’t worry, Mr. Blue King… Fushimi is a top-notch Clansman… We’ll find a way to help him and he’ll be fine.”

The Captain nodded. Shiro excused himself.

“Fushimi,” Munakata whispered as he stared at the readouts on his monitor. He hoped it was true… that they could save the young man before it was too late…

Unwilling to let himself be distracted by grim thoughts, Munakata pulled up HOMRA’s number to set up a meeting.

-o-o-o-o-

The bar had grown considerably quiet after everyone had dispersed. Once it was determined that the Red Clansmen were, indeed, Clansmen once more, nearly all of HOMRA’s members went out into their territory to make sure that the boundaries were secure. With the resurgence of their own abilities, there was no telling what new strains might have gained power as well. It was in their best interest to secure the area as quickly as possible, not just for their sake, but for the sake of all citizens who resided in their territory. Only Kusanagi, Anna, and Yata remained behind.

“So the Blues are coming here, huh?” Yata asked from his spot on the couch.

Kusanagi set a glass of sparkling juice on the counter in front of Anna before answering. “I guess Munakata and Shiro looked over the data and decided it was best we went all in on this one.”

“I thought the Blue King said our alliance was invalid?” Yata huffed out. Kusanagi smirked.

“I guess he changed his mind.”

Anna sipped her juice loudly through her straw. “I think Reisi… wants to start over.”

“Start over?” the barkeep asked. Anna nodded.

“I think he wants change how things are between everyone… this time…” She paused and sipped her juice again. “He called all the Kings so quickly instead of taking it all on himself…”

Kusanagi smiled. “I think you’re right, Anna.”

She looked up at Kusanagi and returned his smile. “I want to help him… Izumo, Misaki…” She glanced between the two of them. “We should help them.”

Yata stood, a blush tinging his cheeks. “W-well, of course! You’re our King, Anna… we’ll do whatever you need us to!”

“I think she means that we should all _want_ to help, not just be ordered to,” Kusanagi replied. Yata crossed his arms.

“I knew that! Besides… if the Blues really need us that badly…”

“You mean, if Fushimi needs you?” the barkeep teased. Yata’s blush deepened, but before he could respond, the bell jingled as the front door opened and their awaited guests arrived. “Ah, Captain,” Kusanagi greeted. “Oh, and I see that you’ve brought friends. Fushimi, Seri-chan… Please, have a seat.”

“Reisi,” Anna greeted as the Blue King neared the bar. Yata said nothing, though he couldn’t stop himself from staring at a sickly-looking Fushimi as he walked by.

“Drinks?” the bartender offered. “Seri-chan? The usual?”

“We _are_ here on official business, Mr. Kusanagi. _Try_ to act professional,” the lieutenant replied with a sigh.

“Ah, my apologies… Although I admit I was thrown off by Fushimi’s attire. I can’t remember the last time I saw you in something other than your uniform.” He winked at the Blue’s third-in-command, who tsk’ed in response.

“Even Scepter 4 Clansmen have laundry days,” came his bored reply.

“Of course,” Kusanagi mused.

“Reisi,” Anna said, her small voice breaking the banter. “Have you found out anything?”

At this, the Blue King took a seat beside the Red King, though Awashima and Fushimi remained standing, the lieutenant on his right and Fushimi by the door. “We’ve… had a minor breakthrough, thanks to Fushimi’s programs and the Silver King’s insight.”

“So you _have_ spoken with Shiro,” Kusanagi stated. The Captain nodded.

“I called him once things got… particularly exciting,” he replied. “If my Sword survived, then I wanted to know if his did as well. And indeed it did.”

“Shiro,” Anna whispered. She looked up earnestly at the Blue King. “Does he know why this is happening?”

Munakata shook his head. “My apologies, but neither of us has had much time to analyze the data.”

“Pssh, just shove it under this guy’s nose,” Yata interjected as he waved his hand in Fushimi’s direction. “He practically eats, lives, and breathes data.”

The Blue King smirked. “Yes, well… He was otherwise indisposed at the time.” He turned his attention back to Anna. “We _did_ have the chance to look over the data before he left, but he insisted on going back to JUNGLE’s headquarters to investigate in person.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Yata asked. Fushimi responded with a click of his tongue.

“JUNGLE’s virtually non-existent. Only the J-Ranking members had any real power and when Hisui Nagare died and the Slates were destroyed, everyone was stripped of it,” the third-in-command answered. “There’s nothing down there for anyone hoping to resurrect JUNGLE.”

“Even so,” Munakata said seriously, as if he were deep in thought, “with the data suggesting that the Slates are rebuilding, it could potentially be dangerous to wander around the last place they were seen intact.” He brought a hand to his chin. “Silver King or not, all of our powers are unstable. Maybe it _was_ unwise of him to go on his own…”

“He’s the Silver King,” Kusanagi said with a shrug. “I think he’d know his limits better than anyone else, don’t you?”

“Even so,” the Captain replied. “It’s far too risky to assume anything at this point.”

“I’ll go.” Everyone paused and turned towards Fushimi, who sighed and avoided their gazes. “What? If it’s as dangerous as you say, then Shiro should have someone there that knows the layout. As a former member of JUNGLE’s J-Rank, I’m the best for the job.”

“But, Fushimi-“ Awashima began, but Munakata raised a hand to silence her.

“Very well, Fushimi. Report in as soon as you find anything,” the Captain ordered.

“Yata,” Kusanagi spoke up. “Why don’t you go along? Help keep the Red Clan informed?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” the vanguard replied. He kicked up his skateboard and looked up at his old friend, who only seemed to be bothered by the fact that he was tagging along. “Oi, Saruhiko. Stop looking so gloomy and let’s go already. Besides, you owe me an explanation! I left you like, three messages!”

“Five, including texts,” the Blue Clansman retorted. Yata stared at him incredulously as they left the bar.

“Then why didn’t you respond!”

“I did…”

Their bickering faded into the distance until, finally, the bar was just as silent as it was before Scepter 4’s arrival.

“Sir,” Awashima said in a hushed voice. “Are you sure that was a good idea?”

“I’m actually curious to know, too,” Kusanagi interrupted. Both Blue Clansmen looked up at him. His expression was serious. “I know that we have a seriously dire situation on our hands, and I know that’s why you called this meeting, but… You two spared every single glance you could at Fushimi. Not to mention the kid looked like he was about ready to pass out. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

The was a moment of silence between all of them before the Captain finally moved to speak. However, it was Anna who broke the silence.

“Saruhiko…” she whispered, her clasped hands trembling, “…is dying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totes just realized I'd been spelling "Scepter 4" incorrectly, so, yeeeaaah, went back and changed that business. XD


	4. (K)nives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAKUMAI-TOU, tailed by Fushimi and Yata, descend into the former headquarters of JUNGLE in order to learn more about the Slates and their strange reformation. Back at HOMRA's bar, Kusanagi, Awashima, Munakata, and Anna all discuss the possible repercussions of people regaining their abilities without being able to control them, Fushimi's current predicament included. Yata suspects something is wrong with his friend and the deeper they go, the worse Fushimi gets...

                “Oooooh! It’s so big! So big, so big!”

                Neko’s voice echoed down into the cavernous wound ripped open in the belly of JUNGLE’s former base of operations. The area had been cordoned off  and placed under Scepter 4’s protection, an expected move, while the city attempted to repair the damage caused by Shiro’s Damocles Down, an event that had been intended to destroy the Slates and permanently end the bloodshed. But… had it worked? The data Shiro had viewed at the Scepter 4 headquarters suggested otherwise, but what would have survived such a destructive force? The cityscape certainly hadn’t. It would be a long, long clean up process. Years, by Shiro’s guess.

                “Shiro?” came Kuroh’s voice, breaking through the Silver King’s thoughts. Shiro gave him a gentle smile.

                “Sorry about that, I… was just wondering…” He looked back down into the crater, the blackness at the bottom swallowing up any details of the structure’s remains. “I was certain that the Slates were destroyed, and here we are. I thought the Damocles Down would surely end my everlasting life, yet here I am.” He glanced back at the grim expression on Kuroh’s face and the teary-eyed one of Neko. “JUNGLE was supposed to be gone, too. And now we’re going straight into the hornet’s nest with no guarantee that it’s actually empty… I wonder what we’ll find!”

                Kuroh’s brow twitched irritably. “You shouldn’t sound so excited,” he grumbled. “Running into the enemy at a time like this-“

                “Shiro, I’ll protect you! The greenie meanies can’t get you when I’m around and I’ll always be with you! Nyan!”

                Once more, Neko’s ridiculous antics had an underlying truth to them. “She’s right,” Kuroh eventually replied. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. “If the Greens or any other kind is waiting for us down there,” he continued, a flash of purple hair and the glimmer of an impossibly long katana flashing through his mind, “Neko and I will protect you… My king.”

                “Yup, yup, yup! We will protect our king, Shiro!” Neko agreed.

                Shiro smiled at them both and placed a placating hand atop Neko’s head. “In that case, shall we go investigate?”

                Kuroh nodded sharply. Neko exclaimed happily about being Slate Detectives or some such nonsense. Together, the three of them descended into the belly of the beast.

-0-0-0-

                “Alright. I’m dying to know. What’s the deal,” Yata finally snapped.

                He and Fushimi, after a brief meeting between them and their kings, had offered to go investigate the former JUNGLE headquarters where the Silver King and his clan already were. If Yata was being honest, Fushimi was the one who had volunteered, whereas Yata had been volunteered by Kusanagi. Not that he was _really_ complaining. He just didn’t like being so far from their king during such a volatile time. Unlike Fushimi, who seemed more like he couldn’t get away from them all fast enough. And now he’d been quiet their entire walk. Not his normal quiet, a different quiet. He’d never admit it out loud, but Yata could always tell. Ever since they became friends. Even after everything that had happened between them…

                “What are you whining about now?” Fushimi answered with his usual dismissiveness. Yata’s jaw clenched.

                “Well, for one, we all got our kings back, but you don’t seem to give a shit. Second, that means we got our powers back, and for a guy who blabs all the time about how strong he is with all his damn colors, is it three, now? Anyway, you look even _less_ excited about it. Actually, you look…”

                “What’s the matter, Misaki? Can’t take your eyes off me?” Fushimi asked, that all-too-familiar sneering tone slinking into his voice. Like muscle memory, Yata’s entire body tensed and he had to force himself _not_ to yell and punch the Blue Clansman.

                “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” he blurted out regardless. He wanted to press the issue further, but his pride wouldn’t let him. Fushimi still showing him his back, shoulders tensed and steps quick, didn’t help, either. Not that it mattered; the checkpoint was up ahead.

                Fushimi was greeted accordingly by the non-Clansmen-grade Scepter 4 officers guarding the main thoroughfare in and out of the crater. They waved Fushimi in without a second glance, but quickly barred the way for Yata. “O-oi! Saruhiko, wait! Bastards, let me pass, I’m with him! Oi! MONKEY!”

                The Blue got about fifteen paces ahead before he finally stopped and called back over his shoulder, “the HOMRA pest is with me, let him pass before he makes a scene.”

                “Makes a scene, I’ll show YOU, make a scene!” Yata shoved his way past the sentinels and ran after Fushimi. “What’s the big idea!? We’re supposed to be-“

                “What?” Fushimi snapped in that quiet breath that somehow always sounded like a yell and felt like a slap to the face. “Supposed to be friends? Supposed to be comrades? Weren’t you the one preaching about how all the colors, and Clansmen, and kings weren’t supposed to get along? That different Clans, different _colors_ , aren’t meant to mix, ah?” Even though his tone was perfectly even, Yata could hear the tremble hidden within it. Something was seriously bothering the other man.

                “Saruhiko,” he tried, his tone firm, yet belying the concern he felt for someone he still considered a friend. They’d been slowly, but surely, repairing the damage to their once unbreakable bond. And after such good news as regaining their status as Clansmen, Yata couldn’t understand where Fushimi’s sudden coldness was coming from.

                “Turns out you were right, Misaki,” Fushimi finally answered. For a split second, he sounded broken. Defeated. A voice that Yata hadn’t heard from his friend is years. Not since that time… when Fushimi Saruhiko had truly thought himself defeated and broken beyond repair…

                Yata extended a hand towards the Blue Clansman, but Fushimi pressed onward to the scaffolding that would lead them into the heart of JUNGLE’s former headquarters. “Saruhiko,” he whispered. What… had happened…? He wanted to ask. He was _dying_ to ask… But he knew Fushimi. There was no way he’d give him a straight answer, not like this. Squashing his frustration down for the moment, the vanguard shoved his hands in his pockets and rushed after Fushimi, tailing behind him quietly as they made their way down the crater’s side.

-0-0-0-

                “Fushimi… is dying?”

                The question came from Kusanagi, but it was on everyone’s lips. Anna looked down at her hands, a sour expression on her face as she tried to explain her feelings. “I don’t understand it yet, but… There’s no doubt. Saruhiko is dying.”

                The Blue King and his second in command exchanged troubled looks before Munakata addressed Anna directly. “How can you be so sure?” he asked. Anna just shook her head.

                “I don’t understand it yet,” she said again, “but… you do, don’t you, Reisi?”

                Munakata blinked in surprise at Anna’s perception, something he should’ve been used to by now, but somehow was endlessly surprised by. He regained his composure and smiled. “Your insight is incredible, Kushina Anna.”

                “Captain!” Awashima said in protest, but Munakata’s disarming smile silenced her.

                “The Red King has already pointed out the obvious. It makes no sense to try and hide it. Besides, that insight of yours, Miss Anna, just might prove to be useful considering our young Mr. Fushimi’s situation.”

                Kusanagi lit a cigarette, then offered one to Munakata, who accepted. “So. There _is_ a reason he looks like death warmed over, then.”

                “It happened when our abilities returned. Specifically, after I called upon my Sanctum and my Sword of Damocles appeared. Like the rest of us, like those of you with HOMRA, he regained his abilities as well… _All_ of his abilities.”

                Kusanagi frowned. “You mean…”

                “Yes. Red. Blue. And green. Fushimi retained them all. And he would likely be dead already if the Silver King hadn’t intervened when he did.”

                “Then the earlier excitement you mentioned,” Kusanagi determined. Munakata nodded.

                “It’s as you suspect. Fushimi was… overwhelmed by the abilities. I called the Silver King to Scepter 4 first and foremost to help stabilize Fushimi, which he did. Afterwards, we determined that the rebuilding Slates are related to our regained abilities and repaired Swords of Damocles, however…”

                A long string of smoke blew past Kusanagi’s lips. “Fushimi seemed to handle three colors just fine before… And the Black Dog, wasn’t he formerly of the Colorless King? How did he seem? I’m assuming he arrived at your headquarters with his king…”

                Awashima sighed, a defeated looked on her face. “There’s no precedent for comparison. And we haven’t had time to run any data while Fushimi’s been… Recovering…”

                “Sounds like ‘recovering’ might be stretching it a bit,” Kusanagi interjected, concern also evident in his voice. He crossed his arms as a thoughtful expression appeared on his face. “If the Slates are no longer overseeing the Kings and their Clansmen, then what on earth is stopping anyone else from losing control? What about all those that JUNGLE gave temporary powers to across the globe? How do we monitor any potential emergencies? That’s more your department, after all.”

                “It’s true,” Munakata replied. “I’ve had Scepter 4 monitoring everything, all sources, since this discovery. It’s Weismann’s belief that our ability to master these powers comes from within, and since we kings just so happen to pick strong people, we’ve been able to transition without trouble. Save Fushimi, of course. I suppose the Colorless King being the weakest of the kings made Kuroh’s transition seamless as well. Unlike Fushimi, who had two different flames and green lightning all fighting for control. If anyone else out there regains the abilities bestowed to them from Hisui Nagare’s releasing of the Slates, we’ll know… And hopefully, we’ll be able to act accordingly.”

                “Meaning what, exactly?” the bartender asked suspiciously. Awashima looked expectantly at her superior as well. There was really only one of two ways to neutralize a potential threat such as that, and they couldn’t hunt everyone in the world down and make them a Silver clansman in time.

                The Captain stood. “You know everything we know,” he replied. Kusanagi narrowed his eyes, but didn’t argue.

                “And Saruhiko?” Anna asked.

                “He’s my responsibility and under my close watch. You don’t need to worry about my Clansman. What’s important is learning as much about the Slates and how they could possibly be reforming after Weismann’s Damocles Down. I assume your men are out reinforcing borders as we speak?” the Captain asked. Kusanagi didn’t respond. “Anything you hear about JUNGLE resurging would be extremely helpful. As well as the Slates.”

                “And what about you? You plan on keeping your findings to yourself in all this?” the barkeep asked. Awashima shot him a look, but Kusanagi seemed unapologetic. “Sorry, but that’s a two way street, pal. You want our help? Keep us in the loop. Especially if it means that one of our Clansmen might end up where Fushimi’s at.”

                The lieutenant glared at the HOMRA second in command. “Such concern you show for your former Clansman,” she said quietly.

                “Don’t get me wrong, I’m worried about Fushimi, but we need to be all in on this, don’t you agree? Anna?”

                The girl nodded. “Yes. Together, we can discover the secret of the Slates once again. I’m certain. Reisi… Seri… Izumo… Working together, with Shiro… That’s how we help Fushimi. And each other.”

                Reisi smiled, albeit a bit more cunning than kind. Kusanagi hated how hard it was to tell what the man was thinking most of the time, though Awashima’s calm composure helped to relax him. Munakata extended his hand to the Red King. “Yes, I think that can be arranged.”

                They clasped hands. “Thank you… Reisi.”

                “If you could keep Fushimi’s condition a secret for now,” Munakata began. Anna nodded. “Thank you… Anna.” He turned away, gesturing for Awashima to follow. “On that note, we best get back to Scepter 4. We’ll be in touch.”

-0-0-0-

                The deeper down they went, the colder and more stagnant the air became. “It feels still down here. Lifeless,” Kuroh commented. Shiro was inclined to agree.

                “Oooooh, don’t say that, Kurosuke! That makes this scary!” Neko whined. She clung desperately to Shiro’s side.

                “Don’t worry, Neko. It just makes it more like an adventure, doesn’t it?” the Silver King replied. Neko didn’t look too convinced, but she quieted down. Just as they lapsed back into silence, however, Shiro halted to a stop.

                “What is it!?” Kuroh asked, hand already at his sword. Neko hissed and struck fighting poses in all directions. “Do you see something!?”

                “No… it’s…” Shiro slowly walked farther from the exposed portion of the crater, farther into the darkness, towards the faintest glint of light on metal. He reached up and plucked the item from the wall: a throwing knife. “…I believe this belongs to Fushimi Saruhiko.”

                “He and the HOMRA vanguard battled Gojo Sukuna the last time we were here. Makes sense we would find one of his knives,” Kuroh replied, relaxing a bit.

                Neko stuck out her tongue. “I don’t like the jerk with glasses,” she grumbled.

                “This is strange, though,” Shiro replied. “The Damocles Down would’ve knocked this blade from the wall easily. It was barely shoved in there, at an angle, like so.” He lifted it up to its former resting place. Then, suddenly, another glint caught his eye some ways down the remains of the corridor. Shiro glanced at Kuroh before walking towards it. Sure enough, it was another blade stuck into the all in the same peculiar angle, facing the same direction. Shiro looked back at his clansmen and smirked. “Now, what are the odds of that?”

                “It’s like they’re leading us somewhere,” Kuroh observed. “Which means-“

                “Someone’s here!” Neko hissed, hackles raised. She faced down the dark corridor, another throwing knife shimmering in the darkness. “…down there.”

                “Looks like we have our lead,” Shiro replied. “Be careful… I’m not sure what to expect if we go deeper.”

                “Don’t worry, Shiro! I can protect you! And Kurosuke will protect me! We’ll protect each other!” Neko replied, determined. Shiro pet her head affectionately, offering her a smile before turning back towards the dark hallway. If he closed his eyes and concentrated… Yes, there _was_ something down there. He couldn’t quite tell if it was a person or otherwise, but… It was waiting for them. They had no choice but to press on, it was the best lead they’d had yet.

                “Then onward we go,” he said, leading HAKUMAI-TOU into the darkness.

-0-0-0-

                He wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking in silence. Every so often, Fushimi clicked his tongue in irritation at the debris they had to climb through, but was otherwise silent. The only noticeable change was that Fushimi had grown slower, his breathing more and more labored, until finally, his feet gave out from under him and he collapsed. “Saruhiko!” Yata exclaimed, rushing to his friend’s side.

                In true Fushimi fashion, his pushed the vanguard away. “I’m fine, let go of me.”

                Yata stared in bewilderment as Fushimi force himself upright and began stumbling forward, only to have his legs buckle a second time. Luckily, Yata was prepared and managed to catch the Blue before he hit the concrete floor. “That’s it. Kick and scream all you want, we’re not moving until you talk. Or at least until you catch your breath.”

                Thankfully, Fushimi didn’t offer up any protest as Yata led him to a slanted slab of cement and set the exhausted boy against it.

Fushimi’s breath huffed in and out as the Silver King’s words rang through his head.

                _“Do you lie often, Fushimi?”_

                He may not have been able to fool the Silver King, but his superiors and clansmen had been easy enough. They were all so ridiculously eager to see him well again that stifling a few pained groans and maintaining a placid expression was nothing. He’d kept up just fine when he, the Captain, and Awashima left for HOMRA, he didn’t complain the entire trip there, and Isana Yashiro hadn’t been there to rat him out. It was all too easy.

                But, just like his near-failed attempt to escape JUNGLE months ago, it was beginning to look like he’d bitten off more than he could chew. Concentrating on keeping his unruly abilities in check and hiking several stories down into the belly of JUNGLE had taken more out of him than he’d anticipated. And now the redhead was standing there with that stupid look of concern on his face. Frustration boiled up within the Scepter 4 Clansman and he grit his teeth painfully. “Are you going to just stare at me some more, Mi~sa~ki~?” he ground out, attempting to chase the vanguard off with easy provocation. Yata looked totally unimpressed.

                “Nice try, Monkey, but you’re not fooling me. What’s the deal?”

                “There is no deal, you’re being ridiculous.”

                “ _I’m_ being ridiculous!? You look like you’re… like you’re gonna keel over any second! Oh wait, you _did_ ,” Yata spat out. “The way I see it, the only one being ridiculous is you! Now tell me what the fuck is going on or I’m hauling your ass back to HOMRA!”

                “…HOMRA?” Fushimi whispered. Yata blinked, realizing his Freudian slip.

                “Scepter 4, you know what I meant! Spill it before I call your creepy Captain and tell him what-“

                “NO!” Fushimi retorted. He was met with instant regret, as the exertion brought on a fresh wave of pain that he couldn’t hide from the vanguard. Yata crossed his arms expectantly. Fushimi grew all the more frustrated. “It’s… complicated.”

                “Remember? You’re supposed to spell things out for stupid ole me,” the redhead replied, not an ounce of malice in his voice. Fushimi looked up at Yata in mild surprise. “Tell me what’s up… Then I promise we can move on.”

                Did he have a choice? It was the only way to get the other man to stop hounding him. And, perhaps this way, he could use the admission as a way to convince Yata not to tell the Captain, to keep the severity of his issue a secret for a little bit longer, not have the Captain breathing down his neck… But, no… If he truly looked at it, the truth was that he didn’t want the man in front of him to know the full extent of his situation. Why…? Why did he care? Why was he working so hard to push Yata away, after everything they’d been through the past year? Why did he feel… like it would be better this way? If they kept distant… in case the worst happened… And Fushimi were to…

                What an incredibly lonely life Fushimi Saruhiko had led.

                Suddenly urged forward by that thought, Fushimi willed himself upright. “…I’ll be fine,” he said once he’d regained his balance. In and effort to appease the vanguard, he allowed himself one small gesture… A hand on Yata’s shoulder. The other man looked like he half expected Fushimi to stab him in the neck with a blade, but didn’t move away, just stared at the Blue Clansman like a gaping fish. Fushimi’s hand slid from Yata’s shoulder. “…let’s go. We still have to find the Silver Clansmen.”

                _“Sorry, kids!_ ” a voice suddenly called out from the rafters. The two men instantly went into defensive stances. _“But that’s not going to happen! We already have a welcome party for them downstairs!”_

                “Who’s there!?” Yata called out in his usual, boorish manner. Fushimi tsked and withdrew his knives. No time to be ill, now. He should’ve anticipated this, sensed someone there… But it was hard, in his current state. Fushimi cursed under his breath. _No excuses_ , he admonished himself.

                A delighted giggle drifted from the dark, surrounding them. _“My, my, my, such a pleasant surprise! I didn’t think we’d get to meet so soon… Fushimi Saruhiko!”_

                Yata’s back bumped against Fushimi’s. “What’s going on!?” he asked, but Fushimi didn’t have an answer for him.

                “I suspect we’ll find out soon enough,” he replied, preparing for battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eheh.... ^^; Sup, guys...!
> 
> Please, don't kill me.
> 
> Here we are, a year and a half/two years later! :D I apologize... I've had a rough go of it, including resigning from my job, getting a new house, job hunting, AND trying to find a surgeon for my back (you don't wanna know). Plus, I had dove into a couple other fandoms and hadn't rewatched K in so long that I was petrified of writing another chapter and not doing it justice... As it so happens, I rewatched season two on a whim and was wholly inspired! So... I'm forgiven... right!? :D /insert terrified crying
> 
> In any case, all of you who waited so, so patiently for this... THANK YOU FOR LIGHTING THE FIRE UNDER MY ASS. Hopefully, it doesn't take another year or two for the next chapter. XD Also, I apologize if this chapter seems a bit.... place-set-y? We're leading up to some good stuff! I haven't forgotten a thing!!
> 
> PS, did any of you shit yer pants when you saw I updated? XD


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